Tick Tock Mallory's Clock
by Missie DuCaine
Summary: SLASH. Mallory McMallard's biological time bomb is ticking... but poor Wildwing wants nothing to do with it.


_Not Mine. These characters belong to Disney, and, I admit, to children's shows. Funny how our childhood becomes corrupted when we become adults._

Tick Tock (Mallory's Clock)

Wildwing was starting to get desperate.

Ducking back into the weapon's room that he had pretended to walk past a moment before, he took a deep breath, and waited. Sure enough, Mallory walked past a moment later, humming as she looked back and forth eagerly.

Normally, he would have gone to speak to her, encouraging her to air any issues she was having, but she was wearing that little pink dress again, and she had a scary glint in her eyes.

His kid brother had been the one to warn him, pulling him aside, and hissing, "Mal-Mal's biological clock is ticking."

He hadn't understood until he'd bumped into her this morning.

In a deathly coldly logical voice, she had explained that they were trapped on Earth, she felt she needed a mate, and she had _decided_ that he was the 'best of her limited options'. It wasn't even that she acted like she wanted him – the tone she had used was as though she could barely tolerate him!

He'd stared at her in horror for close to five minutes, and the second she'd tried to come closer to him, he'd panicked, and dashed from the locker room.

He'd been running ever since.

Hoping that Mallory had gotten further away, Wildwing crept out of the weapon's room, and started down the hallway, headed for the garage, thinking that maybe he could sneak out. 

As he started to pass the living quarters, however, he spotted the back of a red and pink figure standing by the kitchen, waiting.

"Great Mother of Ducks," he hissed. "She's like a bulldog!"

Hitting the controls for the nearest doorway, he darted inside, slamming the door lock on the second he was through, collapsing against the door and sighing heavily in relief.

"And a good evening to you too, Wildwing."

Wildwing looked up to see Duke sprawled on a couch in front of him, magazine in his hands, eyebrows up.

"Huh, hi Duke." Wildwing chuckled nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. "I, ah... I just came to say 'hi'."

"Uh-huh." Duke said slowly. "Who are you hiding from?"

"No one!" Wildwing smiled weakly. "Why would I be hiding?"

"Because you panicked and locked the door?" Duke sat up, folding his magazine and dropping it in the basket beside the couch. "And because you all but came running in here? We are soldiers, Wildwing. We do get it."

The team leader chuckled ineffectively. "That's just... just silly, Duke."

"Oh," Duke nodded, smirking. "'Silly', of course."

There came a sharp series of knocks at the door, and Wildwing yelped, jumping a little. "Don't answer!" he hissed.

"Du-uke?" Mallory's voice came muffled through the door. "Have you seen Wildwing?"

Wildwing shook his head frantically.

Duke stood, grinning, and headed for the door.

Wildwing frantically motioned for the older duck not the open the door.

"Mallory?" Duke called. "What's that?" He hit the door lock and let the door swish open, glancing out of the corner of his eye just in time to see Wildwing's massively muscled frame _somehow_ disappear under Duke's bed. "Can I help you?"

"Have you seen Wildwing?" she asked, straining to look past him into the room. "I can't find him."

He leaned on his doorframe, crossing his arms. "Why're you lookin' for him?"

"We're dating now." She said primly, grinning.

Duke swore he heard his bed threatening to be sick. "Really? Since when?"

"Since this morning," she answered proudly.

"Huh." He furrowed his brows. "I didn't know Wing had a thing for you."

"Oh, he doesn't, not yet, anyway." Mallory shrugged flippantly. "But that doesn't matter. Logically, we're the best for each other."

"Riiight." He said slowly, frowning. "Well, I haven't seen him. See you later."

He hit the lock again, and the door slid shut in her startled face, chiming to represent its locking. Turning around, he shuddered. "That woman is one serious piece of work. Are we _sure_ her egg isn't cracked?"

Wildwing's golden mask appeared from under the bed. "It is. It _has_ to be."

Duke settled on the edge of the bed, looking down at the other. "You're not seriously going to go along with that, are you?"

"Hells, no." Wildwing said fiercely, trying to wriggle his way back out from under the bed. "It was a lot easier getting _under_ here."

"Try losing the battle armour," Duke pointed out, and Wildwing lit up, hitting the button on his wrist and shifting into his street clothes. He was then able to just crawl out, and Duke laughed. "That was a lot easier."

"No kidding." Wildwing sighed, flopping down on the bed next to Duke. "Thanks for not giving me up."

"Are you kidding?" Duke shuddered. "_You_ were panicking, _she_ was creepy! So, what are you goin' to do, Wing?"

"I don't know," Wildwing sighed. "I suppose I should just come out and _tell_ her I'm gay, but I think she's _explode_ on me. Possibly literally."

Duke blinked. "You're gay?"

"Yeah." Wildwing shrugged. "I wasn't trying to hide it, or anything, it's just that with Canard stuck in dimensional limbo, it never really was much of an issue. I mean, I guess I just kind of figured everyone knew."

"Huh." Duke scratched the top of his beak sheepishly. "I always thought there was something between you and Canard, but Tauny said that was just ridiculous."

Wildwing flopped back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. "There was something between Canard and me for _years_. We started dating when I was seventeen. But _that_'s ancient history... Canard's dead... or, as good as, anyway. I've dealt. I just don't like the whole Mallory McMallard thing."

"No kidding," Duke mused, peering at Wildwing thoughtfully. Abruptly, he leaned over and scratched gently at the underside of the other's beak.

"Mm," Wildwing sighed, and lifted his arm to peer at Duke. "Do you realize what you're doing?"

Duke snorted. "Yes, Wildwing, I have done this a time or two before."

Wildwing peered up at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

The older duck smirked, and reached over to gently tug on the mask, removing it carefully. "You look a bit more natural without this," he offered, setting it on the bedside table.

Wildwing still looked suspicious.

Grinning, Duke reached over again, and ran his fingers down the side of Wildwing's beak, laughing when the other shuddered, eyes sliding shut. "Like that, do you?"

Wildwing nodded mutely.

Duke's fingers played across Wildwing's broad beak, scratching at the edges, especially with his fingertips. Ducks, lacking lips, couldn't exactly kiss. Instead, they groomed each other's feathers, and had the duck version of kissing, which was to scratch at each other's highly sensitive beaks, sometimes with their own.

The sides of Wildwing's beak seemed particularly sensitive, and Duke was pleased to see the much younger duck all but melt into his bed, a soft, keening peeping starting in the back of his throat.

Delighted, Duke crouched, and rubbed the side of his beak against Wildwing's, pipping himself when the other reached up and scratched at the bottom of his beak, especially when Wildwing's fingers found the sweet junction of his lower beak and neck.

"You're peeping like a hatchling," Wildwing whispered, sounding pleased.

"You're making me feel like a teenager, that's why," Duke smirked, letting his fingers sink into the feathers on Wildwing's neck, scratching at the sensitive skin beneath the down. He just laughed when Wildwing wriggled under him, letting out breathy peeps. "Hatchling Wildwing. I'll bet you were an adorable hatchling."

"I was fluffy," Wildwing panted. 

"Adorable," Duke repeated, and skritched at his beak again. "I could just do this forever."

"Forever?" Wildwing blinked at him.

"Mm. Well, I'd rather I could get you a little more naked, but I could work with this for now."

Wildwing flushed, and Duke let out a sigh, grinning. "White feathers do not cover blushes, Wing. You're adorable still, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Wildwing muttered, covering his face with his hands.

Grinning, Duke reached down, sliding his hand under Wildwing's shit, and scratching his downy stomach. "Relax, Wing. I like it."

"Duke," Wildwing said seriously, laying his hand on top of Duke's. "I don't think... not yet, okay?"

"Of course," Duke nodded, though he still scratched at the muscled stomach. "I understand."

Wildwing beamed, and Duke was reminded all over again how his team leader was close to fifteen years younger than him. He was still a kid, in some ways. "So. Telling Mallory... what now?"

Wildwing shuddered. "Can we just lock her out of the Pond until she forgets?"

"No." Duke answered calmly, still scratching.

"That's distracting," Wildwing peered pointedly at Duke's hand under his shirt.

"And?"

"And... and... and I can't think of what I should do!"

"All right, up." Duke stood, and tugged on Wildwing's arms until the confused, much larger duck was standing. "Follow me."

"Oookay..." he said slowly, and even though he glanced around nervously for any sign of the redhead, he still followed Duke out of his room and down the hall into the Ready Room. "What are we doing here, again? I haven't even got the Mask with me."

"You won't need it," Duke said cheerfully, and checked something on one of the small screens on Drake One's desktop. Grinning, he then backed Wildwing onto the keyboard, until he sat heavily, blinking. "I just want to know, Wing. Which would you choose, now? If he walked in right now, would you pick Canard over me?"

Wildwing fidgeted. "I know I dated him for years, but... well, my brother actually _likes_ you, and well..." he paused. "Is it a bad thing that I think you're hotter?"

"Is that a 'no', then?" Duke smirked, slipping between the other's knees.

Wildwing nodded. 

"Excellent." Duke grinned, then leaned forward to rub the sides of their beaks together.

Wildwing sighed happily, and reached forward to tug Duke closer, eyes sliding shut.

And then he yelped, nearly jumping off the keyboard when a feminine shriek sounded right next to him. "Gah!" he yelled, clutching at Duke's shoulders. "What!"

Duke, meanwhile, was laughing hysterically, all but collapsed against him, and from the sounds of it, so were Tanya, Grin, and Nosedive.

Mallory, on the other hand, appeared to be having an apoplectic fit.

"Mallory..." he said weakly. "Hi..."

"_Duke_!" she shrieked. "_DUKE_!"

"Girlfriend," Nosedive snorted. "Our father was the first truly straight Flashblade drake in generations. And his _sons_ followed the family legacy. Deal."

She shrieked again, and stormed from the Ready Room to the sounds of uproarious laughter.

Wildwing buried his face in Duke's shoulder, and only nodded frantically when Duke asked, "My room?"

"God, yes."


End file.
